My mother died this year. The memories of the media help me to keep

I want to share something personal with you. It’s about my mom, who is my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, and my safe place.

He went through this in the past. And every day since, I find that I reach for things left behind. Not jewelry, or clothes, or designer bags. But his voice. His laugh. His smile.

Growing up, our bond was unorganized. There were holidays – ours the time. We had a holiday tradition where we would go into Fifth Avenue. We’ll shop until our arms hurt, bags dangling from our trunks, before heading to Bergdorf Goodman for dinner. It was our little comfort, sitting across from each other, tired but happy. Sharing food. Change the stories. Telling each other “I love you,” as you breathe.

Here’s the thing: The most important piece of what I carry with me today didn’t happen.

Two or three years ago, I didn’t have my voicemail started. Like a hundred years, it just became … unnecessary. My aunt Tanya called one day and asked me why not. I rubbed it.

“Tyler, turn around,” she said. “People want to leave you a message.”

So I did. And this year, as my mother passed, one of my treasured possessions has become my habit of saying “happy birthday” and “I love you.” I can hear him any time I need him.

I have our last text thread with him telling me he will love me forever. And I believe him.

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We took pictures together. We made videos. Small clips that help while he sleeps in his bed. Selfies and pictures between crowded shops. A random snap of her laughing at something I said. Those moments … are everything now. They are proof that he was here, that we were here, that love like ours existed.

Credit: Ty Cole

You taught me strength. You taught me patience. You taught me how to keep going when the world feels like it’s stopped. And at times when I feel lost, his voice and our memories are the map that leads me. They remind me: everything will be fine.

That’s why I’m telling you to use all the tools you have to make memories for yourself. Take a picture, even if your hair is done. Record a video, even if it’s just ten seconds. Save the voicemail. Keep documents. Don’t wait for the perfect minute; build It is complete because it is all together.

The holidays are a time to have fun in your own way. For some of us, that’s a big celebration. For others, it is a show of peace. But for the rest of us, it should be about finding loved ones while we can.

So the next time you’re with the most important ones, hold on, because one day those photos, videos, and voicemails can be a way to pull you through your rough days.

To me, they are the reason my mom can hear me say, “I love you.” And it’s something I’ll hold on to forever.

Credit: Ty Cole

This story is part of Holidays with hearta series in which contributors to the CNET team and other CNET members share personal stories involving technology.